


Post

by PurpleFluffyCat



Series: Jeeves and the Artistic Verisimilitude [2]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluffyCat/pseuds/PurpleFluffyCat
Summary: Bertie receives a letter...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a small gift-fic for Lash_larue: a moment 5 years after the events in my longer story, 'Jeeves and the Artistic Verisimilitude'.

Jeeves coughed slightly as he came into the room, bearing a letter. "This arrived in the afternoon post for you."  
  
After sustained effort of his inestimable grey matter, and much feeble protestation on my part over these five years, Jeeves had dropped the 'sir' at the end of each sentence. That's not to mean, of course, that he didn't _say it_ , - more that it was silent. I'm pretty sure that the word was articulated in that non-space at the end of each phrase; in the gap. A _sulcus-of-sir_ if you will.  
  
Anyway, back to that afternoon: I looked up from the score of "Twenty Jiving Polka-Dot Poodles" and smiled, heart doing that very same little dance of joy that it does each and every time that Jeeves ducks back home from his travels about town. "Oho," I said, "Who's it from?"  
  
"I have not, of course, opened the envelope," replied Jeeves, "But judging by the violet-tinted ink and the distinctive cursive hand, I would suggest Mrs Travers."  
  
"Aunt Dahlia, eh? I wonder what she could want." I took the proffered letter - along with the letter-knife that Jeeves had so thoughtfully provided, too - and settled down to read.  
  
  


> _Dear Bertie,_
> 
> You may be surprised to receive this letter, but we old ladies have our ears to the ground, you know. You'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to get one by me. Indeed, I have always been famed for my perceptiveness; in my youth I was called Divine Dahlia, because I was just so good at working out what was going on.
> 
> \- And besides, Mr Glossop came to the Court for dinner and cards last week and got so drunk he let it all slip.
> 
> I know about you and Jeeves.
> 
> I'll let you cast around for a restorative gin and tonic at this point, in the dramatic pause...
> 
> Right. Well, it explains quite a lot of things, I have to say. No change in valet all these years, when everyone else seems to go through them like old socks. The lack of marriage. Fleeing the other way as fast as possible as soon as a filly even gets close.
> 
> I could have been appalled, or disconsolate, or distraught. I could have made threats and demands and all kinds of trouble. I might have just said that it will be sad to never see you espoused - but to be frank, you couldn't have picked a better one, Bertie, and I wish you both all the happiness in the world.
> 
> Jeeves is such a wonderful chap - I think it's just an accident of nature that he wasn't high-born. Let me crack open some champers for you both, and have Anatole make something special.
> 
> I might even get a new hat - I can pretend it's a wedding.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Travers
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Never, ever allow Agatha to find out about this. I know that you don't exactly get on with her, but auntricide through shock would be most unsporting.

  
  
  
My eyes must have gone as wide as one of those nocturnal monkey chappies in Madagascar. You know, the ones with the spooky long fingers and suchlike. I felt somewhere between panic-stations and the victory march home, and the whole revelation was rolling around inside my brain with that kind of seasickness that comes after a really good party.  
  
Jeeves watched and waited - I daresay very patiently - for yours truly to manage some kind of utterance. When it did come, it felt like the very best thing in the world: "Jeeves?"  
  
"Yes, Bertram?" he replied, with indulgence.  
  
"Will you marry me?"  
  
He quirked an eyebrow a full quarter of an inch, and I was pretty sure that was a 'yes'.


End file.
